TOSHA UWASE

and only as a poet do my words learn to grow wings
and escape my grip in search of their freedom.

My love, I am everything in words—
I am a despicable hater of good and bad things;
of men and women—
I am my country’s enemy;
A murderer,
A woman beater
A womaniser
A hopeless fool,
A drunkard sinner;
I am nothing but a crook.

But, sweetheart,
do you see the same,
when seated at a coffee table,
pressing my hands and penetrating my soul
with your uncoated love?
When your gaze shrinks my presence,
When my heart thumps like a drum upon
your embrace…?

My love, I am everything on paper
but only that you have perceived in person—
timid, calm, petrified of the unknown, feminine;
and only as a poet do my words learn to grow wings
and escape my grip in search of their freedom.